


All that Glitters in Red and Gold

by zanethelover1971



Category: David Bowie (Musician), The Rise and Fall of Ziggy Stardust and the Spiders from Mars (Album)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-24
Updated: 2013-04-24
Packaged: 2017-12-09 08:33:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,448
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/772176
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zanethelover1971/pseuds/zanethelover1971
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Man Who Sold the World (aka Zane) is lounging one pleasant spring afternoon when he receives an unexpected visit from an otherworldly Ziggy Stardust.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All that Glitters in Red and Gold

**Author's Note:**

> Author’s Note: This is my first real attempt at slash, so I hope you folks enjoy it, and please forgive me if it’s a little creaky. Comments are very much appreciated! — And as per the legal jazz, no I do not own David Bowie; no I do not own any of his creations such as Ziggy Stardust or The Man Who Sold the World; this is an entirely fictional story with nothing based on fact, so if there’s any similarities to real space-people, alive or vaporized, it is purely coincidental; I get no money from this story, I just do it to amuse other Bowie slash groupies. I think that about covers it. Now on with the porn!

The spring breeze was fragrant with the scent of lilacs, and the grass was thick, green and cool against his skin as he laid on his chest and dipped his long, artistic fingers into a crystal-blue brook. The water was slightly warm and very pleasant, and he cooed quietly as he sank his fingers deeper into it, feeling the babbling current caress against his skin and weave in-between his fingers. The sapphire of the stream and the emerald of the grass contrasted against his gold hair and made it glitter even more than usual; it fell about his shoulders in curly locks, and framed his flawlessly feminine face. His blue eyes were the same color as the stream, which reflected the shade of the sky. Clutching his lithe, milky-skinned body was a long, lavender, satin dress, open at the chest, revealing a teasing glimpse of his smooth body. Presently he lifted his hand from the water; a drop trickled down to the tip of his index finger, and he traced it along his lips, letting the warm water slowly seep into his puckered mouth. In this peaceful afternoon of unparalleled beauty, Zane was perhaps the most beautiful thing in it. And he knew it, too; he rolled onto his back and stretched his springy muscles; his fair skin, speckled with water-droplets, glistened in the sunlight—and he imagined that maybe someone, somewhere, might be watching him—this virginal china-doll, sprawled open-legged in the grass.

Zane placed his hands behind his head and stared up at the sky. He squinted when a streak of white light and red vapor traced a sparkling line horizontally across the sky. He flinched at the sight, but only momentarily; the golden-haired vixen was too entranced by the deep purity of the sky above to pay the disturbance any mind. Later he would realize he should have.

It was some ten minutes later when Zane’s silent meditations were disturbed by a gradually-nearing grunting sound, not unlike the huffs of a child at play. He tilted his head laconically to his right, and far off in the distance, he saw a fuzzy blob of red, pink, white and blue, moving around with great energy. As the figure neared, Zane could at last see that it was a young man, possibly his own age, but far more lank and pale in appearance. His hair was a frayed mess of clay-red spikes; his lack of eyebrows gave his visage the unfortunate similarity to Frankenstein’s monster; his face was besmeared with loud rouge, his lips caked with gold metallic lipstick; and the same lipstick had been used to stencil a perfect circle at the center of his forehead, outlined in black. On his emaciated frame clung a red, white and blue striped leotard that only extended over one shoulder. Thin gold bangles bobbled on his left wrist as he scampered, barefoot, through the plush grass. The lithe man seemed to not be chasing anything in particular—-he stumbled briefly, stalked on all fours as though pursuing prey, then pounced upon a yellow dandelion like a rogue lion, only to cradle the weed in his bony white fingers, and then release it humanely back “into the wild.” Zane smiled bemusedly at this peculiar man, who appeared almost childlike in his means of motion, and in his simple goal of play.

When the red-haired man was within three yards of the young siren, he stopped his play and, upon realizing he was being watched, crouched down in the grass as though he were hiding in the tall grass of the Serengeti. He stared at Zane with hungry intensity, and through the short blades of grass, Zane saw a half-smile creep around the right side of the lithe man’s narrow face. Several moments passed in intense silence, and as the seconds ticked by, Zane felt gradually more and more uncomfortable. Finally, after a few minutes of this staring contest, he decided he was ready to leave. He sat upright, and when he did so, the red-haired observer sprung up as well, into a kneeling position. He smiled with endearingly crooked teeth and eyes that didn’t quite match one another. 

“Fancy meeting you here,” said the lithe figure, who was chewing on his index fingernail. His eyes made quick, sweeping passes over Zane’s body.

“Um…” Zane was confused by the statement. “What do you mean by that? Have we met before?”

The red-haired man rocked into a sitting position; he leaned in closer to Zane. “Not formally,” he said, from the back of his throat, in a voice that Zane thought was lower than he should have had; “I’ve seen you around, though.”

“Oh? Where?” Zane continued to make a slow attempt at sliding away from the visitor as he spoke and feigned interest. The red-haired man followed his movements.

“Here, mostly.” Now he spoke in a low murmur, more of a rumble than a discernable voice. “In the grass. I watch you a lot.” The stranger placed his delicate hand on his own leg, and slid it slowly between his thighs, while he continued to lean closer to the comely blonde. 

“That’s nice.” Zane leaned forward, intend on getting up to leave, when the man quickly removed his hand from the clamshell grasp of his thighs, and extended it, palm down, to Zane, as though he were a courtly maid being introduced to a suitor. 

“My name’s Ziggy.”

Zane was confused and, for a moment, said nothing in response. The visitor spoke again:

“What’s your name?” The words sounded almost camp in their inflection.

Zane’s discomfort only grew as he found himself within five inches of the red-haired visitor’s body. At this close space, he could see gold glitter in the circle on his forehead glistening in the sunlight, and similar glitter in the varnish on his nails, which was silver. Zane fought the temptation to move his gaze further down past the stranger’s neck.

Ziggy smiled, and playfully tilted his head to the right. He crinkled his slender nose. “You’re shy.”

Zane was jolted by the statement. “I’m…not shy,” he defended, breathing heavily. 

Ziggy reached out his right hand and began to pick at one of the buttons that held the front of Zane’s dress shut. “What’s your name?” he asked again, sounding more innocuous and childlike this time. 

The blonde-haired man felt himself somewhat paralyzed. The delicate tickle of Ziggy’s fingers against his chest was shooting through his body like volts of electricity. Zane tried to break his gaze on Ziggy’s chest, but he was entranced by its slow rise and fall. 

“Hmm?” Ziggy squeaked when Zane still didn’t answer his question. 

Finally, Zane spoke, in a detached manner: “Zane.” 

Ziggy smiled with his whole mouth, displaying two long rows of crooked teeth, and he shifted his weight so that he was kneeling once again. 

“Hello, Zane,” said the redhead, inching closer to Zane and picking at the button with both hands. His voice was warm and velvety. “I’m so glad to meet you at last.” As his knuckles gently grazed Zane’s chest, Ziggy could feel his heartbeat racing. He moved his jaw in a circular motion. “You’re excited.”

Again, Zane was jolted from his meditations on Ziggy’s one visible nipple. “What?”

“Where are you from?” Ziggy said, nonchalantly changing the subject. 

“Uh…around here.”

Ziggy smiled again, almost as wide as the last time. “Do you know where I’m from?”

Zane wondered why Ziggy was there, why they were talking about this, what was the point. “Where?”

Ziggy breathed in and out through his clenched teeth, then giggled through them. He leaned close to Zane, close enough that he could smell the floral scent of his blonde hair. 

“I’m from Mars.” 

Then Ziggy pulled away again, leaving his own musky scent hanging in the air, a strange combination of incense and sugar candy.

Zane fought back the tingle of goosebumps that were trying to creep down his body. He couldn’t get over the entire situation: where this person came from, why this normal day had become so strange, what he was getting at…and why couldn’t Zane stop staring at him? There was something indefinably beautiful about Ziggy. He was pale, frail, and strangely innocent while somehow also being sexual in his speech and motions. He was radiant somehow; his skin seemed to glow in the late-afternoon sunlight. Zane felt a tightening in his chest as a soft breeze ruffled Ziggy’s rust-colored hair. He felt almost breathless. 

“Mars?” Zane said in a low tone. “Mars where?”

Ziggy giggled again, and curled his arms against his half-clothed chest. He extended his left arm as far as he could and pointed. “Mars a couple hundred-million kilometers that way.” 

Zane’s attention was jolted once again. “What, you mean planet Mars?!” He felt that sense of unease again, a sense that got all the stronger when he glanced downward and saw the crotch of Ziggy’s leotard, which was swelling with what appeared to be an enormous erection. Zane shivered and tried to move away.

Ziggy leaned further towards Zane, propping himself up with his stiff left arm and pressing his creamy shoulder into his cheek. His eyelids drooped as he glanced up and down the comely blonde’s body, and his lean chest rose and fell with deep, longing breaths. 

“I’ve been traveling a long time,” he said, his voice sounding low, soft and velvety. “Even in alien spacecraft, it’s a long journey between planets.” Zane, who remained transfixed by the alien visitor’s mismatched blue eyes, didn’t see Ziggy’s right hand slowly being raised before his chest. “And I’ve been all by myself on that journey. It’s been such a…long…time since…” He licked his lips with a wet, limber tongue and thrust his right hand inside the chest of Zane’s dress, and stroked his delicate skin. Zane’s body reeled with tingling chills, and he breathed harder through his teeth as he dug his fingers into the soil. When Ziggy’s long, cool fingers fondled Zane’s left nipple, Zane threw his head back and looked to the sky. He couldn’t stand to look at those beautiful eyes again. Still, he tried to escape what he knew was probably inevitable. He struggled to choke out an objection.

“I think…that you…should go now.”

Ziggy’s eyes widened and his painted mouth puckered up like a china doll’s. He quickly pulled his hand away from Zane’s chest, and Zane released a groan that was part relief and part disappointment. Then Ziggy thrust his body forward, threw his arms around Zane’s neck, and warmly, wetly took Zane’s lips, pressing into a sensual kiss. Zane whimpered but didn’t resist; his tense muscles slowly loosened, and his lips parted to allow Ziggy’s eager tongue entry. His tongue gently caressed the roof of Zane’s mouth, tickling it and eliciting another shiver and whimper from the blonde. After a few moments of probing of tongues and swirling of saliva, Zane began moving his head side to side, trying to break the kiss. It was too much; he felt overwhelmed and almost frightened by how much he wanted to fall into the beautiful stranger’s arms. He was afraid to give into him—afraid he wouldn’t like it, or might like it too much. 

Ziggy pulled his lips away sharply, and Zane squeaked. Ziggy smiled wolfishly with his crooked teeth. “You could’ve pulled away if you really wanted to.”

Zane’s body buzzed and tingled as though his skin as been charged with electricity; his limbs were shaking, and he could no longer hide the fact that he himself had a growing erection, which was making itself known—holding up a portion of his dress like a tent-pole. He curled his legs up beneath him so that they disappeared beneath the skirt. Slowly, he licked his lips, taking in the sweet taste that the other man’s lips had was left on his. He could also taste the oily traces of of Ziggy’s lipstick, and he revelled in each unique flavor he could find in the moisture on his lips. Ziggy’s kiss was so much more rich and decadent than he was used to—perhaps a trait found on his home planet, he thought.

To Zane’s surprise, Ziggy did not move in for another kiss; instead, he curled his slinky body around and laid in the grass beside Zane. He stretched his body out—my God, he’s got long legs, thought Zane—and then he nuzzled the side of his face into the grass. Zane couldn’t help feeling strangely jealous of that grass.

“We don’t have to,” said Ziggy, quietly, his eyes closed and his face being caressed by the blades of grass shifting in the breeze, “if you really don’t want to.”

Zane felt his chest rising and falling quickly and deeply. The sight of Ziggy lying there, feminine in form and movement but masculine in voice and scent, playing with dandelions between his long, expressive fingers, was almost too much to bear.

“I’m…sorry,” Zane said, haltingly; “I…I didn’t mean to be…curt just then. It’s just that…I’m not really….used to being…accosted like that.”

Ziggy curled up like a small puppy and smiled impishly. “You Earth people are so funny.” He turned his head and buried his face into the grass. Zane gritted his teeth and breathed deeply; everything this stranger did was more and more alluring, from his smile to his movements, and Zane felt he was at the mercy of this beautiful man. He couldn’t break his stare. He was transfixed, and his hard cock, throbbing with the beat of his heart, made him desperate for release.

Zane pressed his tongue into the corner of his mouth. He struggled to think of what to say, but finally, he blurted out the words that had been bursting to be said. He breathed then, hoarsely—“Touch me.”

Ziggy’s eyes popped open. Zane was leaning nearer to him, letting his long, golden curls hang loose. Ziggy felt blood and raging hormones coursing through his veins—strange, alien hormones that had the same effects on him that Zane’s had on him.

Ziggy pulled Zane nearer to him as he shifted back into a sitting position. Ziggy placed a finger on his own gold-covered lips and smeared off some of the lipstick; he placed his other hand behind Zane’s head, and slowly, with light pressure, he smeared the gold along Zane’s lips. Zane closed his eyes and let the pressure of Ziggy’s fingers on both sides of his head wash over him. He tasted the oily lipstick as it pressed into his mouth, and felt Ziggy’s slow, deep breaths against his smooth neck. As wonderful as it felt, he groaned for more. His tender body ached for release; when he opened his mouth to cry out for it, Ziggy’s lipstick-covered finger slipped inside, and Zane whimpered in pleasure. He closed his lips around the finger and sucked on it gently as Ziggy slowly pulled it out. 

The delicate blonde man thought he might go mad with lust. His eyes fluttered open, and he licked the remaining traces of lipstick from his lips as he gave a lustful groan.

“Please,” he whispered, “now. Fuck me now.”

Ziggy’s nimble tongue slid along the edge of his teeth. He gripped Zane’s shoulders with his pale, artistic hands, and pushed him backwards—pressing him firmly into the moist grass. Zane felt all the tension in his body released as he submitted to the red-haired visitor’s pressure. They were so close to the stream now that Zane’s long, luxurious hair was actually dipping, just barely, into the water, turning the tip of his hair from gold to bronzish brown. Ziggy was on his knees still, not yet ready to mount his beautiful conquest; he ran his hands along Zane’s legs, from his black dress-boots, snaking up beneath his skirt, to his hips. When he had rubbed his outer thighs several times, he began to caress his inner thighs in the same way—Zane closed his eyes and whimpered at the touch, digging his fingers into the soil. He squirmed in place, throbbing at every extremity, desperate to not be teased any longer—but he loved it too much to tell Ziggy to stop. He’d die if he stopped now.

The limber hands of the space-creature returned to Zane’s ankles; they took hold of the end of the skirt of his dress, and slowly pulled it up, until it was well over his hips; Ziggy had to bite his lip to keep from squealing when he saw Zane’s lean, milky-white hips and crotch, clung to by a pair of pink lace panties, which were nearly bursting with a huge, erect cock. Zane threw his head back when he felt Ziggy’s warm, velvety figners creeping beneath the waistband of his underwear. He couldn’t watch what was going to happen; it would’ve driven him mad, seeing that stunning creature touching him that way. But he knew he would have to look eventually—he couldn’t stay away from that gorgeous face and body too long.

Ziggy didn’t pull Zane’s underwear down just then; he removed his fingers, and replaced them with his teeth. The warm, hard pinch of teeth on flesh sent a jolt of electricity through Zane’s body, straight to his groin; his entire body became rigid once more, and he moaned helplessly as he felt ziggy’s teeth sliding the panties down over his hips and thighs. He left them at Zane’s knees, and crawled like a panther over Zane’s body. Zane opened his eyes and gazed at Ziggy, feeling so hard and so overwhelmed by lust that he could barely breathe.

Ziggy kissed him again, merging their warm, wet lips roughly together, before he turned his attention to Zane’s hard, long cock. It was almost as big as Ziggy’s, and the Martian marvelled at it; he let his mouth fill with warm saliva before he placed his mouth around the head of Zane’s cock; when the young blonde man felt the sudden ticklish jolt of Ziggy’s hot lips on his penis, and the slow drip of warm drool sliding down his shaft, he moaned loudly, then arched his back, trying to resist the urge to ram it right down Ziggy’s voluptuous throat. The urge became overwhelming when Ziggy’s delicate hand gripped the shaft, slick with drool and pre-cum, and stroked up and down. Zane’s face contorted in agonizing pleasure; he grabbed Ziggy’s frayed red hair in a white-knuckled grip with both hands, and thrusted hard into Ziggy’s mouth. The Martian removed his mouth from the still-hard cock, and licked it twice along the shaft before he pulled his face away. Zane whimpered pathetically.

“No! was the only word he could manage to form. The sudden lack of contact was torturous. He arched his body like a cat. Ziggy placed a single pale, beglittered finger on Zane’s lips and said, “Shhh.” Then he stretched his long, lean body as he slid off the one shoulder of his leotard, and peeled it off of his sweat-moistened body, down past his pert nipples, his adorable belly-button, over his hips and off his legs—revealing a red mesh thong clinging to him. Zane whimpered and shivered at the sight of Ziggy’s ample erection cupped by the skin-tight mesh. Then Ziggy straddled the young blonde and reached up with both hands; he nestled his fingers into Zane’s golden hair and, starting at the scalp, he ran his fingers the length of Zane’s hair, into the wet tips that dipped into the water, then bringing his wet fingers back up to Zane’s scalp and starting again. Zane bit his lip and briefly closed his eyes again, as the pressure of Ziggy’s nails against his scalp sent shockwaves straight to his aching cock.

After only a few moments of this, Zane couldn’t take it any longer. He cried out, “God, please!” and grabbed Ziggy’s hips, clutching them tightly at first with both eager hands, then grasping for his thong. Ziggy immediately slapped Zane’s hands away, like he was scolding a naughty child. “No,” he said.

Zane bit his lip till it was nearly bloody; tears and sweat were drying on the sides of his face. He dug his fingers into the dirt and leaned his head back to scream in frustration. “Please, please, God, please! Don’t tease me like this any longer!”

Ziggy’s juicy, gold-colored lips puckered together, and he smirked. He learned forward and stuck a finger back into Zane’s mouth again. Zane bit down on it, causing Ziggy to whimper, but then he sucked on it gently. Then Ziggy removed his finger, leaned down, and licked Zane’s face—in one smooth stroke, from his jawline to his scalp. Zane whined like a small dog, and mouthed the word “Please” again; Ziggy slid his lips to his blonde conquest’s ear, and hotly whispered the single word that made every square inch of Zane’s body grow hard and tense: “Now.

Zane’s sky-blue eyes widened; he saw Ziggy sliding off the red mesh thong, and Zane shook and whimpered with delight as the thong left his body, allowing Ziggy’s heavy balls to hang free—and his large, hard cock was in full view. The only thing left on Ziggy’s body was a pair of thin gold bracelets, dangling from his left wrist. Ziggy grabbed hold of Zane’s wrists, and pinned them over his head; then he took the thong, still warm and full of Ziggy’s scent and wetness, and tied his wrists together with it. Zane’s entire body quaked while Ziggy was leaning over him, tying his wrists, while his chest dripped sweat down onto Zane’s face. Zane stared at him, awed by his glorious, warm, milky body.

Ziggy stared at Zane, too—with intent, hungry eyes. His licked his index finger, and then began to stick it into Zane’s arse, massaging his opening. Zane gritted his teeth and braced himself, fearing that Ziggy was going to penetrate him dry; but instead, he felt a rush of icy coldness move through his insides, which made him squeal and buck his hips. Gradually, the chill warmed up, and as it did, Ziggy slid his entire finger inside Zane. The penetration was smooth; Zane was completely lubricated inside. (Some Martian trick, he thought. And a fabulous one at that.) Ziggy’s finger probed around until he caressed Zane’s prostate, which elicited a sigh of pleasure; then he removed his finger, causing Zane to sigh in disappointment again, until he replaced it with his large, swollen cock, which stretched Zane gently as he penetrated, and Zane gasped in ecstasy. 

As Ziggy thrust harder and harder inside Zane, the sweaty young blonde let his eyes flutter shut and twisted his fingers into one another as his hands squirmed inside the makeshift restraint. He cooed and squealed at first, but as the sex became gradually rougher—the thrusting more violent—those sounds became more like choked screams. The heat generated by their bodies, the thrusting, the pleasure, the way Ziggy looked as he hovered above Zane—red nipples and white flesh rocking back and forth with each lust-driven thrust—made Zane’s head spin and his mind cloudy. He had no real thoughts—only urges, wants and sensations. His mouth moved independently of his brain; it rattled out only four words—“God,” “yes,” “Ziggy” and “more”—in various random combinations. The only thing in his head was the “here and now”—and Ziggy. He rolled his hips up to take in every last bit of the red-haired Martian’s thrust.

Ziggy was lost entirely in the thrill of sex. He dug his fingers so far into the ground that he was creating fist-sized divots in the dirt. He growled and moaned as he slammed himself into Zane—it had gone beyond just thrusting; it was now a body-slam. He shrieked words that Zane had never heard before—profane swears in his native language—and a single line of drool trickled from the corner of his expressive mouth. He was no longer the childlike imp who stalked dandelions; he was a rough, brash, howling man, tiny muscles bulging under his skin, bearing his gnarled teeth in a rabid snarl, who was slamming helpless, blissful Zane even harder into the moist soil, and hitting his prostate with startling accuracy. 

The alien arched his slender body as the breathtaking sensations reached a climax. He came hard and fast, and released a visceral scream. As Zane felt himself being filled by Ziggy’s warm, wet come, it pushed him over the edge; he moaned Ziggy’s name as he came, covering both their stomachs with it. Ziggy’s face relaxed into a satisfied, wolfish grin, and he ran his finger along Zane’s stomach, gathering a glob of white wetness with his finger, and then sucking it off. 

 

* * *

 

Evening—the sky was purple and growing darker as the sun continued to slink behind the trees. Ziggy and Zane lay beside one another in the grass, their bodies intertwined into a single mass of flesh. Zane’s face was a rosy blush, and his dress was crumpled and soaked with sweat and semen; his blonde locks were a matted mess around his head. Ziggy, still naked, was now missing one of his bracelets, and his makeup was smeared across his sweaty face. He’d untied his young lover, and the red thong lay in a heap in the grass. Zane’s eyes opened halfway, and he nuzzled his face into Ziggy’s neck; the red-haired visitor kissed him on the cheek, then he slowly sat up, breaking his grasp on Zane. 

“Where you going?” asked Zane, groggily, as Ziggy’s body slid out from under his arms.

The Martian smiled as he slipped back into his underwear. “Home.”

Zane sat up in one quick shot. He grabbed onto Ziggy’s shoulder. “What?”

“I’m going back home. It’s getting late.” The beglittered alien gazed up into the dimming sky. Zane followed Ziggy’s gaze, and he realized precisely what he meant. He gripped his shoulder more tightly as Ziggy reached for his leotard.

“Take me with you,” Zane said in a hushed tone.

Ziggy laughed and snorted. “Oh, you Earth people are funny.” He stood up, wrenching his shoulder from Zane’s grasp, and stepped into his leotard.

Zane felt a lump growing in his throat. “Will I ever see you again?”

Just as Ziggy pulled his leotard over his shoulder, he turned to face Zane with a look of surprise. “Wha—of course you’re going to see me again.” He reached down and clutched Zane’s hand tightly.

“How could I stay away? After all—you are carrying my babies now.


End file.
